Simple Answers

Friday, July 13, 2012 3 Comments A+ a-


Good morning!

Hope this Friday finds all of you in happiness and good health. This week has been one long blur for me. Between all the painting, writing and running errands, I swear I met myself coming and going.

I'd still be going today, like the Energizer bunny, if the monthly thing hadn't stopped me this morning (sorry for any dudes reading this). The first day is the worst for me, and given all the Coke I've been drinking to beat the heat and still take in caffeine while painting, I shouldn't be surprised at the amplified PMS symptoms. Honestly, high fructose corn syrup is not my friend.

I was perusing Arisa's INFJ doodles this morning and found one that applies to the past few days:




I believe she's talking about STJ's here, but since I don't know my husband's MBTI yet (and he's been too busy to go online and take the test), I can only relate the doodle to my actual experience. And I've been experiencing it all week. Sooooo.....


 .....if there's one important lesson I've learned from helping paint our house, it's this: do not ever, ever work for my husband. Because I'd probably murder him due to the fact that he's incapable of answering a simple yes or no question. Would love a dollar for every time I thought to myself, Wow, I really wish I hadn't asked him that.

Grrrr.

Now, I can do the same thing on occasion--give more information than necessary. And sometimes it's because I'm talking myself through the answer. But my hubby, bless his analytical heart, does this on a regular basis. And it drives me insane.

He and I have two radically different approaches to life. He's logical, I'm intuitive. At times I can be quite logical and analytical myself, and on those terms we blend beautifully. But he can't understand my inability to listen to and process large amounts of data at one time. He literally can't. I've brought it to his attention on many occasions, and he just doesn't get it.

When I ask, "Where can I paint?" the answer needs to be, "From here to here."  End of story. What brush can I use? This one. Plain and simple.

With my husband, though, nothing is plain and simple. Everything requires description.

Yesterday I ended up painting on the south side of the house while he was caulking there. I asked him which boards to avoid, and the dissertation began. Finally I stopped him and asked, "Could you please just paint a line where I'm supposed to stop?" He sighed and did as I asked. Then as I began to paint, he started in on different aspects of the caulking process. I'm not sure if he expected me to listen, or if he was just talking himself through his work. But the heat, my fatigue, and the onset of PMS hampered my ability to tolerate any more data input.

"Are you going to talk the whole time?" I asked, my brush hovering over the can. "Because if you are, I'm painting somewhere else."

Which only upset him and brought on more talking. I almost walked away. Instead, I got my laptop out and set it on the grass, pulled up iTunes and played some music (the radio they'd been listening to had quit working). The tunage seemed to keep him quiet long enough for me to finish the area I was working on. When Johnny finished his section and strolled around the corner, I immediately asked him to take over for me--which he did, being a laid-back dude who doesn't seem to mind meaningless chatter about caulk and siding. And I made my escape :-)

In the process of painting the house, my husband has come up with great ideas for future projects. Like putting different doors on the pool box and moving the firewood racks, taking part of the railing off the deck and building long steps on the side instead, etc. I agree these are terrific ideas, and there's no doubt in my mind he can tackle them accordingly. He's great at that stuff.

As long as he doesn't ask me to help, lol!

Well, the ibuprofen has kicked in. I think I'm going to work in the garage this morning. Throwing stuff away is a great antidote for PMS. My husband likes to keep everything, but I loooooove putting things in trash bags and giving them a fond farewell (while he's not looking, of course). Makes me feel lighter.

Hope your day is good and that you are blessed with many simple answers to your questions!!

M.


3 comments

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July 18, 2012 at 9:14 AM delete

Well there is a huge part of me that can relate to your circumstance as you say your story.... and that is probably the exact way I would have reacted had I been in your shoes :) great post, it did indeed bring me a smile :)

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Meridian
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July 20, 2012 at 11:18 AM delete

Glad to make you smile, Aarthi!!!

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jonathanrenck
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February 7, 2013 at 10:43 PM delete

I get most of this kind of interaction from waitresses at work. Fortunately I can be a bit harsher than with a spouse and most of them respect me enough to keep things pretty straight forward. There are just times for one word responses. I do feel bad when they come up because everyone assumes I'm mad, I'm usually not, more frustrated than anything. Oh well. If they care they'll figure it out eventually, and if not well you make the best of it and use the non-answer technique. Uh-huh, great, alright.

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